


Nothing But the Radio

by FelicityGS



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Jealousy, Knife Play, M/M, mostly just Poe's voice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 22:38:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8419912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelicityGS/pseuds/FelicityGS
Summary: Hux pauses in the entryway of the apartment, still out of Ben’s sight. One of the lamps is on, the light blurring Ben’s shadow on the wall, distorting it at the edges--a hunched over shape that looks more like a mountain than a body. Poe’s voice on the radio is clear, bright and warm the way the lamp light isn’t. Hux steps into the apartment proper silently to observe.Ben smiles, gentle, wholly focused on Poe’s voice and a shared past long gone.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Verbyna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verbyna/gifts).



> Verbyna suggested the idea to me; I just ran with it. I also imposed the limitation -- 100 words or less per section. It made it much easier to write. Limitations, as it turns out, are good for you.

**1.**

“--and I just wanna say yes, these stories are all true! I wouldn’t lie to you.”

Hux pauses in the entryway of the apartment, still out of Ben’s sight. One of the lamps is on, the light blurring Ben’s shadow on the wall, distorting it at the edges--a hunched over shape that looks more like a mountain than a body. Poe’s voice on the radio is clear, bright and warm the way the lamp light isn’t. Hux steps into the apartment proper silently to observe.

Ben smiles, gentle, wholly focused on Poe’s voice and a shared past long gone.  


**2.**

Ben’s Marine friends call him Kylo, and this is who Hux knows--someone with hands that know how to break a body, and chooses to gentle himself anyway. Knows how to gentle himself, and how to be terrifying, and is comfortable bending himself softer.

But Hux knows there was a _before_ ; hears it every Saturday at ten pm, when Ben sketches and listens to Poe’s voice. Once, Ben was an explosion, bright like the ones that Hux manufactures. Ben-not-Kylo was an impossible, never-ending chain reaction.

Ben sketches Poe as he listens; Hux takes a long swallow of bourbon and looks away.

 

**3.**

Hux hates the way Ben listens to Poe’s voice, head bowed as if receiving a sermon. Hux has burned down everything of his past he could; he thought Ben had done the same. But every Saturday, Ben turns on the radio with a precision he otherwise lacks. Every Saturday, Hux stays and hears about who Ben used to be until he can’t.

Hux walks through too full streets. He watches his shadow cast on the sidewalk; he and Poe are of similar build. He wonders if this is enough to keep Ben, when his voice is not so holy.

 

**4.**

Hux is not a weak man. Ben is not stupid. He knows that Ben notices every time he leaves during Poe’s show, so he begins to force himself to stay. He pours himself bourbon to keep himself warm. If it dulls the desire to throw the radio against the wall and then dig his nails into Ben’s skin, that is merely an additional bonus. Ben, above all, cannot know how much Hux hates Poe and his voice and the past that Hux cannot touch.

Hux keeps himself controlled, because otherwise the fire in his ribs will destroy them both.

 

**5.**

In some ways, listening is catharsis. Hux hates the reckless and too brash boy he hears about each Saturday.

In others, it only infuriates him. Ben treats listening like religion and Poe his priest. The sketchbook is full of a man with Hux’s build but thick curls and softness and a smile far easier than Hux’s will ever be.

Hux does not want to be a compromise; he wants to be alone even less. He satisfies himself with demanding Kylo’s time when it is not Saturday and leaving jealous marks on Kylo’s skin.

It is enough. It has to be.

 

**+1**

Hux’s mouth has twisted down; he is staring at his bourbon as if to divine how to hide his jealousy. Ben watches him through the fall of his hair in the post-show silence.

“Your knife,” Ben says.

The air heats instantly between them. Hux’s eyes are hungrier, more possessive, than Poe’s ever were.

“Of course,” Hux says.

The lines that Hux carves are delicate; they wrap around Ben more firmly than rope ever could. Hux’s hair glows red-gold and his skin burns hot, greedily leaving his marks on Ben, a fire that burns him hallow.

 _Mine_ —

Ben smiles.


End file.
